


The Strange Child

by AnonymousShmonymous (Empress_of_Trash)



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Relationships, Everyone Needs A Hug, Multi, Original Character(s), POV Original Female Character, Past Child Abuse, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-03-06 18:46:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13417371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Empress_of_Trash/pseuds/AnonymousShmonymous
Summary: Being reborn into Naruto is not all it is cracked up to be. It especially isn't when you are the civilian child of a civilian family in a military dictatorship. At the very least I got the nicest version of them, Konoha. Unfortunately, I would have preferred avoiding Plot as a whole, not being in the middle of it. Self-Insert/SI.





	1. ARC 1 - Not Quite What It Seems: Death and Life

I had heard a lot about dying by the time I finally got around to doing it.

_"Quicker and easier than falling asleep."_

_"Death is just another path, one which we must all take. The grey rain curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass."_

_"We're all stories in the end. Just make it a good one, eh?"_

_"There are no happy endings. / Endings are the saddest parts, / So just give me a happy middle / And a very happy start."_

I had also heard a lot of what came afterwards. Most could be summed up with my soul either going to a Bad Place or a Good Place, depending on whatever great cosmic being wound up being in charge of weighing such things. One of the most horrifying ideas, for me, was the idea of nothingness. A concept that was presented to me, funnily enough, through an anime character. Ever since the idea of ceasing to be, of just stopping was something that terrified me.

The actual act of dying was strangely peaceful for two reasons.

First, the most obvious one, it was a relief from the pain I had found myself in. Second, the fact that I was aware of being released from pain meant I still in fact existed. Even if it was on a level that left me confused and was mostly blank. It seemed I went from dying to existing once more instantly. There was an obvious hole in between that told me I had done something during the period, but could no longer remember what.

Maybe it was one of those things a human mind couldn't stand to remember, so it was blocked out. Maybe the afterlife was such as secret it needed to be hidden from me so I wouldn't say anything. Or maybe it was so horrifying I had blocked it out in self-defense.

Whatever the case was when I went from dying into a new blurred mess of wet existence, I didn't scream.

I giggled.

So honestly it was probably my own fault I was saddled with the name my new parents chose.

Taeko. It was written 妙子. It combined 妙, tae, meaning "strange, bizarre" with 子, ko, meaning "child".

Apparently the giggling had left a mark on my parents. Kaa-chan later told me the giggles had lead to perplexion on the medic-nin's part and an hour long three-way debate between she, Tou-chan, and our grandparents on whether to stick with the original name chosen for me, Kohana or naming me something new, the choices being Taeko or Etsuko.

It was decided I was more strange than joyful by the time the argument was interrupted by my brother's birth.

I personally found it to be a pretty appropriate name considering the circumstances.

Going from murder victim to newborn baby in a blink of an eye is a bit more than most people are expected to deal with.

For most of my first year or so I had been operating more or less on two different consciousness.

I had my brief, sharpest moment of clarity immediately following my birth, but it had quickly faded into an in between state.

On one level I was aware I had lived before. I had memories of growing up, of friends and family, of being an adult. I was aware of what everything was, what was happening around me, and registered this. But my mind couldn't really focus on the information. I would forget it almost instantly. I would get moments of clarity, more often as I grew, in which I would be able to recognize  _holy shit I'm a baby_  and  _fucking hell I was murdered_. Never was I awake long enough to actually consider what happen to me or everything I lost.

But for the most part I existed on the level of a baby. My memories were sharper than they should have been and I was definitely a strange, much too aware baby. But ultimately I was an infant. My emotions were that of an infant. I cried when I was hungry, uncomfortable, hurting, or confused. I smiled because I saw others smile. I became attached to the warm, big things that feed and took care of me. Existing at this level I still knew that the big things were "parents" and the existed to care and love me. I knew the other warm body with me was my "sibling". I had vague feelings that a sibling was a good thing, the best thing. Even if this one cried more and smelled. I would spend my time babbling at the other baby and making it smile made me feel happy.

From all accounts I was a happy baby when I existed on this level more baby than adult.

For the first ten months of my life I was Yamada Taeko.

And then in the first autumn of my second life Taeko burned and Jacquee screamed out of her mouth, waking up and remembering as my small heart stopped and then started again from the overwhelming evil that covered the countryside.

I later found out that my heart had stopped three times that night when the Kyuubi's chakra spread out like a miasma. The only reason I was alive was because we were visiting my grandparents in central Konoha and the medics were able to reach me quickly.

My parents thought it was a miracle at first. But then their happy girl had changed.

I was awake now and I could mourn. And I did, for months, I was shocked and destroyed. Everything I had ever done was meaningless. Everyone I had ever loved or hated was as good as dead to me, a world and life away. Every terrible thing I had ever gone through had led up to me becoming a statistic.

Being alive was a relief, but losing my life was not.

The nightmare retracing how I died weren't helpful. They mingled in with the memories of the Kyuubi's chakra and left me choking, gasping painfully in my sleep. My parents didn't know what to do with the abrupt change of their child suddenly rejecting them, refusing to sleep, and barely eating.

The only thing that got me through it was my little brother Taro. My twin was my constant companion. We were a unit. Just like my and my siblings had been in my past life. It hurt, the idea of never seeing my big sister and little brother ever again. It hurt like I had lost a limb and felt just as obvious an absence. My new little brother, with his dark black eyes always focused on me, bubbling laughter, his constant mission to continue the smile game, and his soothing unexpectant presence was a balm.

Slowly I crept back into the world. I responded to my parents. The groundwork for affection had been laid already and it was easy on one level to allow myself to return it. After all some part of me already loved them. But it hurt to look up at Kaa-chan and not find my Mom's sparkling hazel eyes.

I accepted my new family slowly and they were so relieved I felt a bit guilty. It must have been a shock for such new parents. I tried to smile more around them and at some point they became sincere. I never went back to a laughing, light-hearted child, but they returned any interaction with a fierce love that would have been hard to resist.

And then we visited my grandparents again and I got an even worse shock. Ninjas. Everywhere. A mountain with four faces. A grandfather whose "tricks" always involved chakra.

Then and there I uttered my first word, though my parents didn't recognize it as such.

"Fuck," I announced to the room very clearly and in English, watching as Jiji made a beard of leaves stand to his face and Taro giggled beside me.


	2. ARC 1 - Not Quite What It Seems: First Steps to Living

Finding out I was in a fictional world of unhappy children, ninjutsu magic, and rabbit goddesses probably would have been more distressing if I hadn't realized several very key things in quick succession.

 _One_ , despite my grandfather's place as a retired shinobi, my Kaa-chan was most definitely not a kunoichi, retired or otherwise. Which meant my mother's side of the family would likely offer no pressures to follow in Jiji's footsteps. Even if they did I had two civilian parents who seemed happy as they were to back me up.

 _Two_ , that terrifying night that had finally woken me up had to be the Kyuubi attacking. Which put me somewhere in the Konoha 11's age group. That was good because it meant most of the wars had already passed and I was most familiar with this timeline.

 _Three,_ I was in Konoha, which was the "friendly village". They seemed to treat their civilians nicely and liked to keep up a good face. As long as I didn't stand out no one would pay me any attention. It wasn't like I had ended up in a situation that would require learning. I was no Uchiha desperate to survive a massacre or a prophecy child who would have it forced upon them. There were benefits to being a civilian. I didn't have any ties to the village or any valuable information, which meant I could leave and take my family with me when I did. I knew key events to avoid and had at least a decade to start figuring out how to do it too.

Even if I couldn't completely avoid the Chunin Exams, I could make sure we were close to the shelters in Hokage Mountain for safety. For Pain, I had until puberty to convince them to go on a vacation.

 _Four_ , being the selfish and admittedly cowardly person that I was I had no intention of changing the plot. I could sugarcoat it with some truths. I, at approximately eight or nine, would be able to do nothing about the Uchiha Massacre. That alternate universe timeline had shown it required Minato to avoid. And I was far from the Fourth Hokage. There was also the sheer threat of Danzo or Zetsu learning the future to consider when deciding to not bring attention to me. That would end in disaster that didn't bear thinking about. Plus there were differences between the anime and manga, so I could misjudge a situation easily.

But I was also self-aware enough to recognize I wasn't sure I had enough self-sacrifice in myself to dedicate my life to changing this world. To choose a job that would almost assure I would become a killer. All for some distant notion of justice and bettering the world. It was not that I approved of the suffering people went through or the deaths, but what could I really do. Even if I was altruistic enough to try and change it there was no guarantee it would be for the better. Or even that I would be able to change anything. I was not arrogant enough to try and play god, confident enough in my successes, or invested enough in the lives of those who were still fictional to me to try for it.

I was in the good position to change nothing and let fate and prophecy run its course. Perhaps it would have been a better position if we lived elsewhere, but I could deal with what I had been dealt. Besides I was barely a year old, I had plenty of time to make big decisions.

. . .

If I had been asked before my sudden rebirth to be able to make one request it would have been to skip being an infant altogether.

A child at least can walk. A child can talk. A child has some form of control over their body and can interact with the world.

A toddler has to learn all of these.

Learning to do those again may have given me something to do in the tedious hours that my life was filled with, but it was far from pleasant. Taro was company and keeping him occupied was one thing I did to try and make up for the awful months I had given my parents. But he was only a thirteen month old and not able to exactly connect on the same level as me.

Eventually, I started to give myself projects.

Project One: Learn How to Talk.

I had enough control to curse, so I started systematically practicing my vowels and consonants after being put to bed and carefully repeating every sound my parents made, even if it was a little garbled. The goal was to be able to have some memorable first words, like those stories about children who had first sentences instead. Taro would join in and soon our nighttime routine included at least an hour of babbling back and forth together in English, which I refused to forget, and Japanese. He began to treat it like a game and we babbled in our free time as well.

He followed my cues and our first words were muttered out quite by accident.

Taro, I was proud to say was a smart baby on top of being adorable. He noticed I would listen and say any unfamiliar words and began to listen for new ones to say to me first. He became so excited one night at hearing an unfamiliar word he happily turned to me and blurted out, a clear and only slightly off " _yūjo_ ". As he had already said it I decided to follow up with a smile and the other unfamiliar word in the sentence " _usotsuki_ ".

There was a long moment of silence following these words and it was clear from my Kaa-chan's horrified expression that whatever we had repeated was not something as innocuous as a dinner talk. She turned on my stunned father with one quick flash utter fury that was hidden, she started talking to him in a calm voice. But there was clearly a threat in her smile, hidden so we wouldn't notice she was upset.

I was proud to pick up a few words beyond articles and names. Almost every other word was recognizable.

"Kaito  _ **if**_ you  _ **ever**_  talk  _ **about**_ your  _ **work**_  at supper  _ **again**_  I  _ **will take**_  you  _ **outside and drown**_  you  _ **in the river.**_ " It was all spoken in a perfectly sweet voice, but Kaa-chan's brown eyes burned.

Tou-chan looked up at her through his bangs and his shoulders curled in close.

"I  _ **didn't know**_ they  _ **would repeat everything**_ Fumi-chan!" Tou-chan protested but shut his mouth with a quelling look from Kaa-chan and a slightly more tense interruption from the small woman.

" _ **Their first words!**_ "

Tou-chan was unable to argue with this.

Taro, meanwhile, was confused on why he wasn't being praised and his face began to scrunch up eyes watering. I focused back on him ignoring my parents and started to coo at him, babbling some English children's songs my parents didn't understand but he adored.

"Little bunny foo foo," I began and Taro focused on me his face stretching into a gummy smile that made my heart melt. He was the cutest baby  _ever_.

He began singing with me.

"Lil bunny foo foo, hoppin' drew de fores'."

. . .

Later I learned the actual meaning of those words. Taro's first word had been "prostitute", while mine had been "liar".

. . .

Eventually, our parents calmed down and Kaa-chan was mollified by our second words being "kaachan" and third ones "touchan". After this goal had been reached we continued our game and the language just seeped in, in a way no foreign language I had learned in my first life ever had. It was amazing and even better finally let me understand what was going on around me.

Most importantly the people, my parents Yamada Fumie and Yamada Kaito.

Fumie, was as I had guessed, a housewife and from the stories and songs, she would tell us throughout the day happy about this. Jiji and Baba were her parents I also learned and Tou-chan had taken her name because she didn't want her family line to die with her. She had grown up in Konoha and met Tou-chan when he moved to our original country house I had vague memories of. We had moved closer to Konoha Proper after the Kyuubi destroyed it during the attack.

Kaito was harder to figure out. He would go off on tangents when he spent time with us just settling us around him to play and filling to air with information on the oddest topics. From carpentry to tea ceremony to locked room murders. I was sure the last one was not something Kaa-chan would not approve of, but it and seeing him scribbling notes helped me figure out the last piece of the puzzle. Tou-chan was a writer and what's more, he wrote mysteries. Murder mysteries, if I understood correctly.

They were complete opposites. Physically as well as mentally. Tou-chan was loud, Kaa-chan was quiet. Tou-chan was tall, Kaa-chan was short. Tou-chan was educated by some university in the capital, Kaa-chan had quit her education as soon as possible. Tou-chan had long light colored hair and narrow eyes, Kaa-chan had a smooth cap of black hair and large deep brown eyes.

The only thing they seemed to have in common was their love for stories, each other, and us.

This new ability to understand my parents and better tell them what I wanted came with more advantages than just closeness. I got to request stories, which meant books. Lord, I had missed books. I insisted that Taro and I got to see the book the entire time they were reading it to us. I was desperate to learn to read again and building associations early wouldn't hurt Taro.  _Hiragana_ came back grudgingly, but  _katakana_ and  _kanji_ were struggling along.

Thankfully, my parents were more than willing to encourage this and quickly supplied blocks with  _hiragana_ on them to entertain myself with. Taro was not much interested in them beyond their softness, chewability (we were teething), and how well he could aim with them. For me, they were the first step to one of my goals and gave me a more stimulating way to spend my time.

. . .

After getting my goal of talking down, smoothing my walking abilities was the next step. I was already becoming proficient at crawling and soon began pulling myself up to stand at any opportunity to get used to my new balance and build up my muscles. Taro seemed uninterested in this development and his preferred method was to forgo crawling and simply get Tou-chan to bring him to what he wanted or bring what he wanted to him. I doubt my falling helped give him much enthusiasm for the subject either.

When I finally did walk, it went about as successfully as my plan to have my first word be something good did.

I had been practicing but was saving my "first" steps for the maximum point of drama. I figured I owed my parents at least some good stories to tell other people. I finally settled on doing it on the rare days all four of us visited our grandparents.

Tou-chan almost never came on those visits and was usually writing frantically in the den or meeting with some official looking people over tea.

I figured seeing as the whole family would be assembled now was as good a time as any. But still I waited through the small talk and me and Taro being passed around and fussed over. Jiji and Baba spoiled us shamelessly and we could never get away without some kind of sweet or toy or knitted blanket or clothes being pushed towards us. Baba seemed to spend most of the time knitting something new while talking to Kaa-chan. Jiji would quickly claim us and drag us off to the corner to brag to his customers about his "adorable grandchildren" or play with us without tiring for hours.

With Tou-chan there things were slightly off somehow and Jiji quieter than normal, looking up at Tou-chan with a narrowed eyes every time he would speak. It was a far different picture than the grinning, goofy old man I was used to. Even our soft, gentle Baba turned hostile when Tou-chan was there. Never rude, she was a hostess after all, but her smile was colder and she seemed to deliberately allow Tou-chan to fall into awkward silences.

Subtle they were not and honestly, it was probably Taro and my presence that stopped things from getting out of hand.

I tried my best to cause distractions when things got too bad and was definitely playing up the "I-am-an-adorable-baby" thing to get Jiji to soften back up again. Demanding "games" and "sweets" were usually enough to distract them from glaring too many holes into Tou-chan.

I decided walking then would be both a good dramatic moment and useful for cutting the tension.

I had spent the evening pulling myself up to standing using Jiji's knee as a prop or occasionally one of their lower tables that they kept on the family side of the restaurant. Every time I did Jiji would coo and open his arms to try and encourage me to walk towards him. He was summarily ignored and eventually gave up keeping a close eye on me instead.

I bided my time until everyone was seated in the room. Tou-chan and Baba had fallen into a rare civil conversation as he interviewed her about cooking with his serious "Work Face" on taking notes. Kaa-chan was distracting Jiji by talking about arranging for a " _shashin"_ of Taro and I for our next birthday and Jiji was wearing his besotted expression that meant he was imagining us doing something cute.

Taro was the only one really focused on me. His black eyes watched me as I pushed up from the table and released it to measure my sense of balance. He blinked at that and took out the soft  _ta_  block from his mouth to question me.

"Nee?" he said face scrunching up and watching as I took a step away from the table. I gave him a smile which he returned on instinct, but he still looked concerned as I began my shaky steps away from Jiji and toward where Tou-san sat.

" _Nee!_ " Taro protested behind me and conversation ceased suddenly.

I didn't look back focused solely on my goal. I rounded the table slowly, looking only at the wide-eyed expression on my Tou-chan's face and the way it faded into something softer, affectionate. His hands lowered palms out when he realized what I was aiming for. I knew everyone was focused on me now and was rather proud of something going right for once.

Then I heard a sharp hiss of breath and felt stubby baby fingers grab the back of my shirt and a teeny body hit me. I lost my balance and only heard a cheerful "Nee" beside my ear before I tipped forward forehead hitting the edge of the table.

Pain exploded behind my eyes and I wailed. An answering wail came from on top of me in response.

The room exploded into chaos as everyone was talking and I was grabbed with Taro. I just cried and sobbed through the pain, until a soft minty touch began tickling my forehead making the pain recede.

Still sniffling, I looked up through wet tears to see green coming from Baba's hand as she frowned at me. I could hear Taro crying behind, sharp and making my heart feel like it was ripping even as I processed this new knowledge. Baba was or had been a kunoichi.

Blinking away the tears I turned in Baba's arms to find Taro close up hiccuping with huge tears going down his face from where he sat in Kaa-chan's arms leaning up towards me. I wiggled until I was lowered closer and reached out to pat his cheeks.

"Toto," I said and he quieted but kept sniffling, not quite quitting his crying. I crawled closer using the women's knees as leverage to switch laps and instantly Taro snuggled up beside me.

"Nee," he whined wrapping his chubby arms around me. I would dare anyone not to coo and melt at the sheer adorableness that is a chubby-cheeked Taro.

I returned the hug and we comforted each other, even as my mind went back to the tickling sensation of  _chakra_  touching me for the first time. As little as I wanted to be a ninja, the chakra was interesting and even though I had seen Jiji use it I had never felt it like that before. It made me curious about how my own chakra would feel.

Was it like a separate thing inside of me? Or was it like a heartbeat, unnoticed unless brought to your attention?

. . .

My third birthday answered those questions. Chakra definitely stood out to me. And worst of all, chakra didn't feel mystical or like a part of me. Chakra felt  _itchy._

* * *

 


	3. ARC 1 - Not Quite What It Seems: The Third Year

Three important things happened the year after I turned three. They were all equally important though they didn't seem so at the time. But hindsight is twenty-twenty as the say.

. . .

The first was that my chakra finally came in. Though that isn't quite right. The chakra had always been there, but starting at three was the beginning of chakra coil development and the minimum for chakra to be able to be manipulated for young children. For some children like myself, the change in their body is much more noticeable. Others like my brother did not seem affected at all. As in most things I took my cues from him and tried to ignore the new irritating feeling.

I want you to imagine for a moment what it feels like to have head lice. That awful itching sensation that even when you scratch the relief is only ever temporary. Now imagine the sensation without being able to scratch it whatsoever. That is what it was like for me when my chakra came in. Itchy is perhaps the closest adjective I can get for the feeling of this awful feeling of something unfamiliar and foreign going all through your body.

The only saving grace of the situation, the only reason I didn't go mad, was that it faded in and out of intensity. I could go days without even noticing it was there and then it returned suddenly and viciously. I attempted to scratch it at first, not understanding what was going on and leaving long red marks up and down my arm from my fruitless efforts to just make it stop, please.

Taro, who had noticed my increasing oddness and scratch marks, found me when it finally grew unbearable. The tipping point led me to sob with blood on my arms from deep gauges I had dug in attempts to scratch the feeling away. He had gone pale and ran to find Kaa-chan immediately.

Kaa-chan came running and grabbed me rushing to the hospital. I couldn't focus by the time we arrived and honestly don't remember much until the medic-nin had touched me with his chakra. I shrieked like I was dying. I felt something else entering me like some kind of stinging nettle.

After that it was kind of a blur. The nettle feeling seemed to set off the itching to a level it had never been before. It exploded under my skin and outside it. I felt like I was being bombarded by all sorts of sensations all at once.

Burning one moment from inside. Freezing along my left side. Nettles stinging me in focused jabbing patterns. Vibrations went up and down my body so strongly my teeth hurt with the shaking. Blood, coppery and fresh was in my mouth along with a sweet, peppermint taste that made me want to vomit. My ears rang with a low deep buzzing.

It was all too much.

Until suddenly it all just shut off.

When I came to my light gray eyes were completely blurred from tears, my throat felt bruised from screaming, and my stomach was covered in something wet. Blinking, I looked down my head fuzzy and slow to react. My stomach was uncovered and had a weird counterclockwise spiral on it framed by five little swirls. An unfamiliar man with a narrow face, long curly hair pulled out of his face and prominent cheekbones was bending over me. His face pinched and holding a paintbrush. When he saw me looking, he smiled.

I opened my mouth to ask what was going on or at least for my Kaa-chan, but all that came out was a croak.

"Please don't talk Taeko-chan." The man said voice gentle and his hand glowed green as he placed it on my throat. This time I felt nothing, not even the tingle of warmth that was under the usual itchiness chakra brought after I turned three long after my Baba's initial introduction to it.

I blinked in response, taking a few minutes to understand the words he spoke. My hands drifted towards the paint on my stomach instead, fascinated by the strange cold feeling that was coming from them. It was like I had swallowed a lot of ice water very quickly and it was bloated right there. But that didn't make any sense because I felt so empty. Something I hadn't known I possessed until it was gone had been cut off and my senses were duller for it.

But everything was fine. My eyesight was better than it had ever been in my last life. My hearing as well. I smacked my mouth curious and tasted dryness and something medicinal I couldn't identify. My fingers brushed closer to the swirls, leaving goosebumps in their path and feeling the soft skin underneath.

Before I could touch the wet paint though my hand was stopped by the strange man.

"No touching the seals." he chided gently, settling my hands on the crinkling blanket that spoke of a hospital mattress.

I croaked at him in question and then remembering I wasn't supposed to talk rasped something like an apology. I went quiet instead of trying to make it audible. No talking, I reminded myself lazily wiggling back and trying to lift my head to get a better look at the swirls.

Seals, my mind informed me slowly. My first glimpse at the mysterious and unexplained things. A brush was set down on the small table beside me looked like a calligraphy brush. Like something out of Barakamon. My lips twitched up at the reminder of the light-hearted series and then immediately back down. I wouldn't be able to finish the series ever now.

"How about I go get your Okaa-san? I'm sure she's worried and you'll feel better if she was here."

My response was a drowsy mumble and finally closing my eyes. I was so cold and sleepy. Thinking was hard.

Moments passed and I was aware again when I was being settled into a warm squishy chair. I opened my eyes to find it was my Kaa-chan. I grumbled, silently, but settled resting my head against her chest pleased by the warmth. Even as I settled though the situation was slowly coming together in my head.

Something was wrong with my chakra. So wrong in fact it had led to being taken to the hospital and the intervention of medic-nin. The seal they had drawn on me was probably the only thing keeping me from totally shutting down from pain and sensory overload like before. Whatever it did though left me exhausted and groggy.

The medic-nin, very young to be one, I noted eventually, explained exactly what it was in a slow calm voice that clearly was meant to be soothing.

I had something called Chakra Sensitivity Disorder (CSD), which basically amounted to a chakra allergy and extreme sensitivity to it. My developing chakra coils were causing me extreme irritation as they grew and became inflamed as soon as the chakra went through them. Apparently all children begin to unconsciously force their chakra through the coils to encourage their development and keep them open. When my body went through this process to clear them out and continue growing every few weeks it led to massive irritation. CSD almost always disqualified someone from the Academy. But, and here the medic-nin, Yokaze-sensei, made sure to sound helpful and cheery, that was not a guarantee. Plenty of kunoichi and shinobi had been diagnosed early with this only to grow out of it or work around it as it was usually caused by an excess of one kind of chakra. It involved a lot of hard work and they were limited in career options, but I could still become a kunoichi if I desired to.

It didn't help, he said clearly trying to downplay the next topic, that my chakra was showing up oddly. But this could be a natural phenomenon of these new developments. My chakra was still in the early stages. He recommended bringing me back when I was about five, even if I decided against a kunoichi path. A trainer could be chosen to help me work with my CSD so that I could live a comfortable life. Until then a small seal could be applied monthly to help me balance my chakra on my own. I had also bruised myself screaming and though he had healed the damage he said I should refrain from talking for at least twenty-four hours.

This was the best news I had gotten in my second life. I had to hide a smile in Kaa-chan's chest as we left with our diagnosis and prescription. My new seal was significantly smaller and resting directly above my heart, a much smaller spiral with four incomprehensible squiggles. This one was set for a few minutes before the ink was wiped away leaving a stain I would have to come back to get updated.

My first tattoo. I was fascinated and instantly more energetic the moment the original seal was gone. I craned around to get a good look at the unfamiliar places we walked through.

Kaa-chan was clearly still frazzled, but acting calm for me and for my "good behavior" I got a treat, some mochi ice cream. I eagerly devoured the soft powdery balls and the ice cream hidden inside them. This was a good cause for celebration I figured and was deliberately more cheerful than normal to both comfort my mother and for the happiness at my more comfortable path decided for me.

No one would be eager for a soldier who couldn't do the most basic of ninjutsu. Gai and Lee were rare exceptions who were responsible for their shinobi status from sheer force of will and determination. A will and determination I had no intention of sharing with them.

It was a good day, I decide dimly smiling as we arrived home to a worried Taro and Tou-chan.

. . .

The second thing occurred not a few weeks after my diagnosis while I was still riding the high that no fear of being drafted because of my uselessness had left in me. My Kaa-chan got a job. Not any job though, Kaa-chan got a job at the library as the librarian.

In my past life, one of my goals was to work as a librarian and spend my life in a small house far away from civilization surrounded by books and only venturing out for food and when I desired socialization. My hobby had literally been collecting books. Spending my childhood hours told to sit quietly in the corner of a library with free reign to read whatever I could get my grubby little hands on was a personal dream come to life.

Besides I had been running out of material at home. As I had progressed on my Plan: ABC quite smoothly with the assistance of my Kaa-chan's children's books and the hiragana blocks my reading level had expanded in leaps and bounds. Having literally hours of nothing to fill up led one to accomplishing goals for lack of mental divergence. It helped that Taro, once he realized my own interest, seemed more than happy to help me along with my scheme.

The ability to have access to stories on demand was not something he was overlooking either. And apparently, years of being a DM and one acting class meant I did the voices better than Kaa-chan.

Acquiring books at a higher level was both complicated and simple.

Complicated because I had absolutely no intention of my parents learning I read better than the average, intelligent toddler. Being marked a prodigy or genius was the death of any dreams of normality. Even if it was just my parents knowing it was too much a risk. Once one person knew the chances of someone else knowing increased and once that increased the chances of Konoha finding out and either Hiruzen "encouraging" me to join official channels or Danzo-anyone but Danzo-taking me for the "greater good" increased as well.

I was probably a little paranoid in truth. A lot of paranoid if I'm honest. But I had read too many fanfictions and reread about ROOT to risk ending up there. I was a tiny civilian family with few connections. The perfect candidate for being forced into a secret spy organization with the minimal fuss of missing children.

The simple part was that our house was covered in books. I knew Tou-chan was a writer. I just hadn't realized he was a prolific one. If the squiggles I was starting to recognize as his name I saw on many of the books was any indication.

Tou-chan had a huge collection of books, both for research and pleasure. He had at least ten copies of one of his first books, every printing sent free as a courtesy. Some copies were for reading, while others were covered in annotations and bookmarks from being used as references. I could (and did) build a fort out of the books we had in the hallways alone. I could easily take one copy and make him think he had simply misplaced it while walking around.

The problem was sneaking them into my bedroom and finding unsupervised time to read.

My parents had, if anything, become a bit overprotective after the hospital visit. They seemed terrified to let me out of their sight as if one second alone meant the seal would fail and they'd find me screaming or covered in blood from trying to scratch my chakra coils out. Which admittedly was probably a gruesome and slightly traumatizing sight for a first-time mother to find.

It had definitely been traumatizing for me and Taro, who walked in on it. If my parents' hovering was bad, Taro was much worse. We had always been attached, but now couldn't go a minute without him touching me. Even going to the bathroom, our latest "big kid" accomplishment, was complicated by this. It had taken days to convince him not to follow me in. Instead he would sit outside until I came back out.

The library job meant time outside of the house with open access to books and new reading material.

I had taken to daydreaming about the start of Kaa-chan's job and all the books and questions I could finally have answered. Were there ninja romances? What kind of information did they have on seals? How badly edited were history books? What stage was fiction writing? The only canon novels were Jiraiya's. Did they have those? Just the pervy ones or the other one too? Was there anything on physics? Was information restricted?

So many questions and so much anticipation built up that the day before made me think back to Christmas Eves long passed. It only served to make me nostalgic and sleep further away at the comparison as it led my quiet mind to a new area of study. Exactly what did the religion in this world look like? Different faiths? Any "real-world" parallels? Was Jashinism an actual recognized practice? Or a not so well-known cult?

Sleep was not my friend and I didn't drift off until well past midnight.

When our nervous Kaa-chan woke us up to begin to get ready I was groggy. At three I was starting to ty for a little more independence, such as dressing myself and Taro was following me admiringly well. I could remember how long it had taken my little cousin in my last life to learn these skills. Taro had taken it as a challenge and had practiced buttoning and unbuttoning everyday until he got it down. I had been startled until I realized he was simply copying how I usually approached problems over the years. When he looked at me expectantly I had been appropriately impressed and he had rolled his eyes at my little clap but looked pleased.

Now that he was three Taro was also developing a more definite personality beyond just being sweet and biddable. He was getting a startling sassy streak which I refused to acknowledge had anything to do with my occasional under-the-breath commentary in English that only he understood.

I was dead tired, but nothing was going to stop me from going to a library filled with information on this world and new knowledge for my salivating brain. Taro gave me an unimpressed look as I mumbled something trying to fit my head through my arm sleeve. Taro reached over and tugged the dress over me and out of my hands. He pulled it onto me with a fussy air and pulled both my arms through without allowing me the chance to do it myself.

"Better," he said firmly and looked at my smooth black hair pointedly before pushing a brush in my hand and going to fight with his own.

Sometimes Taro behaved in the most unchildish manner and he refused to let me leave with my hair in a mess. He'd discovered a love of all things neat and looking presentable. Our room had become a veritable oasis of orderliness that was at war with my own messy nature. The attitude also made my neat silky black hair that fell into obedient straightness once brushed and my own lack of attentiveness to it personally offensive given his own ongoing war with his unruly black curls.

I grunted accepting the brush and numbly began the motions out of habit. It was as soothing as it had been in my last life and I found myself dozing on my feet. I didn't realize I had closed my eyes until Taro was taking the brush from my hands and dragging me out the door.

"Mornings," I told him voice full of despair and drama. "Are the devil."

"I don't know what that is." he countered unamused and pushed me into my chair before climbing into his own and giving our father a bright smile.

I let out a noise of disgust.

Taro, too my horror, was turning out to be a morning person. It was a betrayal of all my principles and our twinhood. Tou-chan returned the greeting brightly and it took me a few moments to notice that he was wearing an apron over the nice brown hakama he wore for his business meetings. I was aware enough to sense the danger in that and sure enough, the fish was slightly burned, the miso soup had almost full-size chunks of carrots in it, and the rice had more salted wakame in it than rice.

Tou-chan looked proud of himself and was looking at us as he happily ate his rice.

Taro looked at me, eyes wide with panic.

I looked back at him and grabbed my bowl pointedly.

His expression turned resigned and he copied my movement.

Tou-chan beamed as we ate our seaweed with a little rice. It was a lot of saltiness for the morning, but at least it wasn't something I hated. I washed it down with some milk and then looked at Tou-chan.

"Less wakame next time, Tou-chan," I suggested lightly as Taro had switched to eating the fish. He was not a fan of much salt.

Tou-chan nodded, his expression serious and actually went to write this down in a notebook beside him.

Taro saw this and piped in, somewhat reluctantly, "Perhaps make the carrots smaller?"

I gave a brief smile at Taro's vocabulary. He really was an advance kid. What three-year-old uses 'perhaps'? My genius little brother.

Taro looked liked it pained him to give the slightest thing resembling criticism to our parent, but relaxed when Tou-chan smiled writing this down as well.

When Kaa-chan walked in, looking very professional and impressive in her new skirt and blouse she stopped short at the sight of breakfast and said visibly startled, "Kaito?"

Tou-chan beamed and quickly pulled her to sit beside him, uncovering her own meal.

"I know you were starting work and thought, well why don't I show my support with more than just words," Tou-chan explained cheerfully, as he looked over his assembled work with clear pride. "You always take such good care of us I wanted you to have a little less work your first day."

Kaa-chan looked conflicted. On one hand she was clearly touched, but on the other she also saw the general roughness of the meal as we did. I was calmly scraping off the burnt skin and eating the fish underneath as Taro was 'sneaking' his wakame into my bowl I had 'forgotten' near him. We both paused to look at her. I nodded to the book and she followed, seeing the comments written there as well as the earnestness on Tou-chan's face her own softened.

She was looking at him with an expression of such tenderness it almost felt invasive to look, but also as if she was having a whole new realization about him. It was like watching her fall in love with him all over again. Tou-chan must have recognized it because he fell into a similar lovelorn expression and they gazed into each other's eyes lost a few moments before Kaa-chan spoke again.

She placed a hand on his cheek and smiled, making her look so beautiful it hurt. "I think I'll need to give you a few lessons husband."

There was something teasing in her face.

Tou-chan looked as if he had just been offered the world.

"I'd love them Fumi-chan."

They were so sweet I want to vomit, I thought looking at my parents and feeling very content at the warm atmosphere of my home. Taro continued to overload me with wakame beside me, ignoring our parents' display.

When we finally made it to the library I was starting to wake up again. Kaa-chan looked particularly cheerful when we arrived, her nerves about her position miles away. Her new boss, Mr. Hatanaka, seemed surprised to see us and dubious at my mother's assurance of our behavior, but allowed her to settle us in the children's section.

I was in heaven left there to roam at my leisure. Taro also looked interested having inherited a similar interest in books. Though he still preferred my "special stories" I told him at night alone in our room. They were my way of keeping my favorite stories and past alive. We both dove in grabbing books and building a pile in our claimed corner.

As Taro settled in with a basic picture book, he was determined to catch up to me, even as he demanded I read to him, I wandered. I kept quiet as I went passed the children's section into the non-fiction. There were a few adults there who gave me curious looks, but I didn't seem distressed so the left me be. Konohagakure seemed to hold with the idea of free-range parenting and let children learn boundaries on their own to encourage independence. This was a safe village after all in their minds.

Then I saw a man I was sure was a shinobi. This was my first time really encountering one outside of my grandparents who were happily retired.

I stared a bit.

He just looked different than everyone else. None of the usual crazy hair colors or bloodline limits that were visual. He was a plain man, with brown hair. I couldn't see past his broad back except for a few glances of his profile when he turned. He just stood perfectly still in a way that made him look like he wasn't breathing when focused on the book in his hand. I realized he noticed me when he became more liquid and his breathing visible. He didn't do anything so I supposed in a way that was permission to keep observing. He put his book back and began moving down the aisle. I followed shamelessly fascinated by the way his feet didn't make a noise.

I watched curiously trying to copy the way he was moving. My sandalled feet still made soft scratches on the carpet. I sighed down at them and heard a soft snort making me look back at the man sharply. He was looking at another book, but I was certain he'd made the laugh. I couldn't see his face and was considering asking him about it, only to have my sleeve pulled.

I found Taro holding a book looking at me with curious black eyes.

"Nee-chan, I found a book I want you to read," he said face glowing with interest. "A nice Jii-san recommended it to me, but," And here he scowled. "It's got too many words I don't know."

I abandoned the stranger to look at the book that had Taro so excited and choked on a happy squeal.

My brother had brought me  _The Tale of the Utterly Gutsy Shinobi_.

"Of course!" I said instantly and grabbed the startled Taro's hand to drag him back to our corner. I was not missing out on reading the famous book. This was the kind of discovery I was here for.

We settled into the corner snuggled up together as I opened it and with a slightly awed tone began to read quietly, starting with the dedication next to the map at the beginning.

"Dedicated to all of the people, who despite the pain and sadness in the world believe in the light of assurance, which shines in the distance." I began reading the words, not realizing that the rapt expression on Taro's face should have been taken as a warning sign. I was too absorbed in my own awe of touching a book that literally changed the world.

. . .

The third significant event occurred when the year was almost over. On November 15th, during the Shichi-Go-San festival my family had all dressed up to visit a shrine and during the day we had found a small, lost, crying child. A little girl with pink hair who looked up at us shy through long bangs.

My first Canon character. Haruno Sakura.

Sakura though wasn't the most troubling part of the evening, though I stood shell-shocked as Taro offered his candy to soothe the crying girl in a rare act of sociability when he was normally crushingly shy around strangers.

No, Haruno Sakura was an incredibly adorable, mostly harmless little girl right now.

What was troubling was the unfamiliar couple, the woman with soft pink hair, returning with my mother who had gone to look for them. What was troubling was they were not Mebuki and Kizashi. What was troubling was the gangly figure pushing his way through the crowd frantic, his hakama in disarray as he hurried our way.

What was troubling was the seven-year-old boy shouting, "Sakura!" and being answered by Sakura, an only child, looking up with an instant smile and calling out in return "Nii-chan!".

What was troubling was I might not be in fucking Canon.


	4. ARC 1 - Not Quite What It Seems: Play Dates and Pink Children

The end to my peace of mind came like this. 

 

We had been preparing for the Shichi-Go-San Festival for weeks, ordering the shoes, renting the kimono, and arranging to schedule time with the in demand and rare photographer. Kaa-chan was thrilled to finally get that photo of us. Cameras were much more restricted in the immediate time following the war and previously only for the elite and military use. Kaa-chan spoke enthusiastically to Tou-chan over breakfast about the technology finally becoming more available and how one enterprising company was using the elimination of the last war time restrictions to open up a business here in Konoha. She was bursting at the idea of handheld cameras which had previously only been legal to buy if you were an active shinobi.

 

I was personally thrilled to wear a kimono and it had been a long nurtured anime nerd dream of mine to don the iconic clothing. But even cheap yukatas, which is what I could usually find, were rather expensive. I was prancing in my white and purple kimono dotted with pink purple morning glories.

 

It was a small tribute to my first mother that I had chosen this one when Kaa-chan asked my opinion. She had called me her “Morning Glory” since I'd been small. I figured wearing the flower would be a good way to honor her memory with this new family photo. A way of connecting the two even if I was the only one who noticed it. Kaa-chan seemed to have noticed my odd seriousness and allowed it ignoring the suggestions of the more popular pink ones and going with my understated choice.  I had loved her fiercely for it.

 

When the day arrived the house was in a cheerful chaos to prepare and get dressed in time. Kaa-chan, who rarely truly fussed, she was too practical to fuss over minor details, spent the enter time nervously readjusting our hair and making sure we were perfect. Taro was actually an amazingly well-behaved child, but even he was starting to get antsy under her hands pulling at his hair and neatening his  _ haori _ and fighting with a curl that had escaped.

 

Our life was pretty regulated so this was the first time we were really interacting with a large crowd of strangers. At the restaurant Jiji and Baba mainly kept us in the back rooms which were designated for family. Rambunctious three, almost four year olds, were harder to carry around and show off when you had a business to run. Even when the customers were old familiar faces. At the library our shyness, well rather Taro’s shyness and my introversion, kept us to ourselves. Besides the library was a quiet place that was not very busy at any time.

 

Arriving at the Towa Shrine was an experience. 

 

There was a crowd that took me back to the Mushroom Festival from my hometown in my first life. It was packed and people were wondering about laughing and buying treats from the stands. It was a colorful sea of silk kimonos and hakamas of all different sizes and styles. To one side there was a towering woman, elegant with a bright orange koi going down a gleaming silver river against dark blue silk a little boy dozing in her arms, sticky hands clinging to her shoulders. On the other side, a man’s formal hakama with three family seals on the back and two on the front the silk untouched by any dirt and his face serious as her escorted a smiling little girl in bright pink.

 

Taro and I were overwhelmed. Even with my age I found myself grabbing tight to my brother's hand and holding the edge of Tou-chan’s formal haori. The actual trip to the shrine was strangely quick. It was a beautiful wooden building that gave me a similar, but slightly different feeling to visiting a cathedral. I still felt the quiet respectful awe I kept towards places of worship, but where Christian cathedrals had dwarfed me with their size and stained glass and untouchable artefacts Towa Shrine actually seemed to make me physically feel something. It was a confusing rich, natural energy that I could only describe as green and tasting like a fresh day after the rain has made the plants green and bright again with life.

 

It felt refreshing but we were only there for a few moments. Our parents took us forward to be blessed and then back out to get our candy allowing the long line of visitors to continue. It was fascinating for me to look up into the serious round face of the olive skinned miko doing the blessing. The odd confusing feeling though sparked when she said her words even shaper, but almost the moment I categorized it it faded away, leaving a cold feeling spreading through my chest and a sudden drowsiness. 

 

We were quickly rushed to the photographer and it was a fight not to yawn as the photos were taken with the old camera.

 

Tou-chan noticed my sleepiness and took us to rest on a side bench while Kaa-chan arranged for the photos to be delivered. 

 

I was dozing against Tou-chan when Taro stopped eating his red-and-white candy and looked up eyes wide and focusing on something in the crowd. Then he looked at me and pulled at my sleeve. I withdrew from my comfortable position somewhat reluctantly, now that Tou-chan was dozing as well he had relaxed into a nice warm bed. Taro’s black eyes looked panicked and he pointed me towards the source of his distress.

 

A small, much too small to be alone even in Konoha, pink haired girl was cowering next to a stand, hands tightly gripping her pink kimono in small fists. She was looking around fearfully, face twisted up as huge tears fell from big green eyes. She was so very, very tiny I wanted to grab her and wrap her up where the world couldn't touch her.

 

Instead, I stared feeling vaguely horrified at her being alone and distantly panicked because  _ I knew exactly who this was _ .

 

My mind rushed trying to decide what to do.  _ Avoid. Don't avoid. Crying child. But Canon is dangerous. She's  _ _ two _ _. The third, most dangerous two year old we could meet. _

 

Taro, I have said before is a good child. A kind, sweet boy. Our parents had raised us to help others and have the group before self mentality. I had only furthered it peppering his night time with stories of kind, intelligent, and brave heroes. His favorite heroes were Donna the Temp and most important woman in the universe, the Doctor who chose kindness, Harry Potter who never used a Killing Curse, Wonder Woman who said to be kind and extend your hand, the mouse who removed a thorn, a rabbit who believed in love, and friends who trusted in each other to save the world and did so by offering a scared child a helping hand. Those were the kinds of heroes my brother wanted to be like. 

 

He went to the little girl with a determined look and sealed our fate by offering her some candy and a shaky smile.

 

Taro in that moment made me incredibly proud and also terrified at the consequences. 

 

Then our parents found the family as I hovered indecisively beside the two shy children bonding under my sharp gaze. 

 

Then my worldview broke and reformed with a “Nii-san!”.

 

. . .

 

I was not looking forward to this playdate. I was so obvious with my intense feelings on it that I had more than once overheard my parents talking anxiously about it in their rooms. They were convinced it was a jealousy thing as I had never had to share Taro before.

 

This was actually a pretty fair idea. I was a possessive person about my possessions and while I understood people were not items my possessiveness had extended to my people as well. Hell, in college I had joined a club, attended and became part of the leadership of the club, and aggressively befriended all the members in the inner circle just because my best friend had started to spend more time with them than me which was only acceptable if they were also mine. I won't deny I was at time childish and greed was probably my cardinal sin. I hoarded my things and people worse than a dragon.

 

It made me a hoarder and clingy.

 

My parents had by now realized this as well, it had especially been prevalent when I was younger and had much less control on my emotional state. I'd actually bitten Tou-chan when he'd jokingly taken some food. The only time I'd suffer sharing food was if it was my decision or it was Taro. Siblings, as in my past life, were somewhat exempt from the rule involving my things.

 

It wasn't like I didn't understand where it was coming from having food, safety, clothing, and people taken from you when you were younger made you a bit fiercer about them when you grew up. That it had held through to a second life when my anxiety, depression, and PTSD had not for the most part spoke of how much it had become a part of me.

 

My things were  **mine** and what was mine was kept  **safe** and  **happy** .

 

I hadn't even considered the prospect of sharing, but for everything I was I loved and wanted the best for Taro. I had no intention of letting any possible jealousy over a  _ child _ ruin his first budding friendship. That would make me a bigger asshole than I was normally.

 

No, I had bigger, more annoying problems.

 

Namely the Canon destroyer, Haruno Shion, who had thoroughly ruined my life. At least, if I was having a more dramatic moment that was how I referred to him. He was more of a catalyst to realizing I may be wrong than anything.

 

Shion was a seemingly gentle, very protective boy. A true pretty boy even at the tender age of seven. He had a heart shaped face he'd clearly inherited from his mother, lovely eyes that were a deep green, and the memorable pink hair of a soft winter dawn. He was a cute kid and looked just like his stunning mother, where Sakura resembled their father.

 

He, unlike the parents, ruined my chances of being in Canon.

 

Sakura’s parents, Sawaka and Toriyoshi, were far from Mebuki and Kizashi. Instead of the goofy, shinobi couple they were two very well off, complete civilians. Sawaka was a delicate beauty with her large eyes, long sunset hair, and fragile bone structure. She carried herself like a Geisha, floating on her sandals, and spoke with a soft musical voice. She was a stunner who looked incredibly young for her age. Honestly, she made my non-existent hormones preemptively swoon. Toriyoshi wasn't any easier to handle on that front. He had pale blond hair and that charming proud smile I recognized as Sakura’s. She'd gotten her wide forehead and facial shape from him. I suspected, openly staring at the muscles, her eventually physique came partially from him as well. He was a very handsome man, who was loud and clearly adored his family. A banker, he had a sharp intellect that peeked out carefully behind his jovial expression. 

 

Parents though could have just meant Manga-verse where they had never been shown. The additional brother was too much though. 

 

So Shion, named after the small purple wildflowers symbolizing “remembrance”, meant my memories were useless.

 

I was not pleased about this. 

 

. . .

 

The playdate was scheduled not too long after our initial meeting on my mother's rare day off. It was a cool November day and would have been Thanksgiving in another life, in another world. I had spent years before eagerly awaiting the two Thanksgivings dinners, always carefully negotiated between my two grandmothers so we would be sure to be hungry again by the time the second one occurred. Mammee preferred to claim the evenings filling us up with rich turkey, chicken and dumplings, and Papaw’s homemade mashed potatoes. Virginia took brunch with light snacks of ham sandwiches and devilled eggs. 

 

It had been such an important holiday to my family that I'd made a point to spend the last two as a day of remembrance.

 

The playdate taking this away did not improve my mood and I was a bit  _ grumpy _ as Kaa-chan decided to help us get ready. 

 

Kaa-chan helped pull my hair back, tying some to the side with two little pink ribbons to match the pink princess dress Baba and Jiji had bought. They'd even broken out my shiny little black buckle shoes. Taro was absolutely ecstatic at the concept of dressing up and all our shared efforts towards independence were forgotten as he eagerly put on his new clothes a tiny little button down with shorts and his own black shoes. He was most thrilled by being allowed to borrow Tou-chan’s hair gel and carefully used it to smooth back his unruly hair. It was rather adorable. The volume in it it still had some poof and looked more Urameshi Yusuke, teeny punk edition, than Alfalfa. 

 

Taro insisted on dragging me in front of the mirror to admire ourselves to our parents and my amusement. We were adorable though. Taro was quite frankly angelic with his large black eyes, ungodly long lashes, cherubic cheeks, and sweet smile. I looked like a little doll with my fair skin, big gray eyes, delicate features, and lovely arched Cupid’s bow.

 

We were both very beautiful children. Honestly, I was better looking now by a large margin. I would have wept over such easy to manage hair and flawless skin.

 

Looking over us I realized then, I hadn't spent much time looking at myself before. It made me uncomfortable to be without the familiar blue eyes I'd resented and loved from my birth father or the wild curls I'd inherited from my Mom. Without the flaws I'd fought a hardwon war to accept and learn to love. I took the time to really look and noticed the ghost of Kaa-chan’s nose, Baba’s nose; Jiji’s strangely delicate seashell ears; and an unfamiliar delicate shape of our face. We really didn't have much of Tou-chan. Though I suppose my gray eyes were a similar though more startling version of his own. Maybe we'd end up with his height in the future. Being tall would be an interesting change.

 

I smiled for the first time that day, slightly amused at the thought.

 

Then Kaa-chan said, “Time to go.”

 

I looked up and was a little startled to find her in her best clothes, a neat black A-line skirt and a white blouse paired with a cardigan. She was even wearing a touch of makeup and some subdued silver jewelry.

 

“Nice.” Taro smiled brightly at the sight and then grabbed onto her hand.

 

“You look really pretty.” I agreed, grabbing the other and following his lead. Some tension in her relaxed at that.

 

It was rare to see my mother dress up. I wondered at that, but supposed making a friend was a special occasion. Besides I'd only ever seen Kaa-chan at work and at home. Never actually socializing with other adults. Maybe she liked to dress up in those situations. 

 

_ Wait, never _ ?

 

I jerked a little surprised. I was a very introverted person and was perfectly happy spending time with a set amount of people. So, I'd never really considered the fact we never got visitors. 

Did my parents have friends? The only adults they spent time with were each other.

 

I kept my thoughts to myself as we made our way towards the center of the Merchant District. The houses here were small, close together, but much nicer and newer. They were owned by the mid to high mercantile class. It was a heavily civilian based section of the village though its close neighbor was the Genin and Orphan Housing. 

 

The house the Harunos lived in was two stories with a large balcony, open flower boxes, and an actual yard in the back, small and fenced in peeking out from one side. When Sawaka opened the door she was in a slightly more casual kimono, but still looked like an elf queen from Tolkien all otherworldly beauty with a slightly distant smile.

 

“It is a pleasure to see you again Yamada-san,” Sawaka said smoothly, face serene. When she looked at us, each holding onto one of Kaa-chan’s hands her smile became gentler, more sincere instead of polite. She very smoothly, impressively so given how bulky I knew kimono to be, bent down to greet us at eye level. Her voice was much more welcoming and warm now.

 

“Welcome to our home Taeko-chan and Taro-chan.” The words were spoken in very formal Japanese, a form I was much less familiar with. *****

 

Taro seemed a little intimidated by the unfamiliar form as well and blushed burying his face in our mother’s skirt. I could understand it, but was less sure in my response. I stared at her conflicted, before giving up and looking at Kaa-chan for help. She was petting Taro’s hair, but noticed me looking. She whispered out of the side of her mouth.

 

“Thank you for having me Haruno-san,” I copied obediently. It was slowly spoken, but I didn't stutter and Sawaka looked charmed.

 

“Please do not feel the need for the children to speak so formally. They are guests and my daughter's friends and children besides. They may speak casually within my home.” Sawaka told Kaa-chan moving to lead us in. She quietly slipped into her house slippers and nodded to a fresh, new sets she had waiting. “Please go ahead and call me Sawaka. Haruno may grow confusing in a house full of them.”

 

“Thank you Sawaka-san,” Kaa-chan said as she deftly switched her shoes leaving them in the front entrance and bending to help Taro with the buckle he struggled with.

 

When Kaa-chan stood again she looked at Sawaka’s smiling face in silence a few moments too long to not be awkward. 

 

“Oh,” Kaa-chan said and then looked slightly embarrassed. “Thank you for having us in your home.” With a quick look from her we echoed the words.

 

Sawaka just smiled at us and said, “Welcome to my home.”

 

Watching Kaa-chan I recognized the expression of embarrassment from moments of social awkwardness in my own past. I reached up to squeeze her hand. She looked grateful and slightly amused, which was better even if she was slightly pink as we followed Sawaka.

 

The Haruno home was  _ nice _ . It had a very traditional Japanese decor mixed in with the most modern of conveniences for the Elemental Countries. Sawaka wasn't showing off, but I noticed the definite signs of wealth amidst the hanging calligraphy, careful arranged flowers, multiple photographs, and even an old rotate phone.

 

I had been discovering this world was an odd hodge-podge of technology. Most jumps began as projects for military use and slowly trickled down, heavily sanitized for civilian use. I'd also noticed some technology especially medical had been completely replaced with seals. Even more peculiar was the mixture of heavily modern, in a mostly 1940’s sense, and then in the countryside it was like a different century. When our old neighbors had visited Baba and Jiji’s they had spoken distrustful of electricity that many still refused. It was very much a world in transition.

 

When we were led into the living room I was also struck to find Sakura and Shion gathered around the brand new looking color television, which had been the newest accomplishment of the post-war technology declassified boom. Taro actually gasped at the sight looking at the moving puppets on the screen amazed. Jiji had spoken of them last time we visited, but neither of us, at least in this life, had seen one and Jiji’s sketch had not really done them justice.

 

Sakura didn't appear to be enjoying herself though, fiddling nervously with her skirt as she sat perfectly straight on the couch looking a little nauseous. She looked up at her brother every few seconds and relaxed a little when he smiled and petted her hair. Shion meanwhile had Sakura half in his lap, arm wrapped around her in an affectionate hug that stood out like a sore thumb. 

 

It wasn't that people didn't show physical affection, but I had noticed over the years it was much more constrained and limited. I received hugs and my family was loving, but it was to a very different degree than my last life. People in the American South were very touchy, even with strangers.

 

When Sawaka said a quiet, “Sakura-chan.” though the scene was immediately thrown into chaos. Sakura looked up briefly terrified until she settled on me and Taro. Then she was giving us a blinding smile and throwing herself away from her big brother to us. She stopped herself at the last second from bodily throwing herself into us. She straightened looking up at her mother slightly nervous before saying in a very proper and careful tone, “Welcome to our home.”

 

I nudged Taro and he quickly copied me in saying, “Thank you for having us.”

 

She relaxed smiling and grabbing both our hands. Her face was glowing with joy and her energy was a sharp contrast from our first meeting. Now the two, almost three year old, was practically bouncing.

 

“Come on. We can play in the yard. I can show you my swing and tree and flowers and garden and toys. We can play  _ ninja _ !” she said and then paused and looked at her mother again excitement faltering slightly. “Please?”

 

Sawaka smiled down at her. “Go have fun with your friends. I will come get you for lunch. Yamada-san and I can move to the kitchen to talk,” she turned politely inquiring to Kaa-chan who nodded and then to Shion. “Shion go watch your sister and her friends. Don't let them get into trouble.”

 

The boy nodded solemnly looking over our little gaggle, suddenly nervous wringing his hands as he looked between us. Sakura gave a happy squeal and pulled us out to the backyard I had only glimpsed from the front. It was a nice ordered place, especially when compared to our old house. High fences and with a swing set it seemed to make the most out of its limited space. There was a garden along the back wall, colorful and lively in the usually light fall of semi tropical Konoha.

 

Sakura looked at us her expression a mixture of hesitant and hopeful.

 

Taro looked back at her shyly and said, “I like your swing.”

 

Sakura grinned widely and Taro returned it with a small one of their own.

 

I despaired. Dear God, my precious Taro was bonding with someone and Sakura was a tiny ball of cotton candy. The slightest rejection could crush her completely. Her big green eyes turned to me and Taro’s followed and I knew my fate was sealed.

 

“I can be the enemy nin the first round if you want.” I offered and Sakura squealed.

 

Fuck, looks like I'm adopting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter actually gave me a lot of trouble. But finally I just had to move the story forward. I do love baby!Sakura though!

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a shameless self-insert oc fic that I'm working on, because I don't have enpugh things to write. I was having nostalgia feels and read some good ones though and decided to go back and keep working on this. Plus it gives me the challenge of writing in first person which I don't favor.


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